


Harley Had a Problem

by michellejones_stacy



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Angst, College Student Harley Keener, College Student Peter Parker, Frozen (Disney Movies) References, Gay Harley Keener, Gay Panic, Harley and Peter are the Idiot Children, Harley def knows how to adult, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Merlin (TV) References, No Smut, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Past Child Abuse, Pepper Potts Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Pepper and Tony casually referring to themselves as parents, Pining, Roommates, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, and Harley and Peter as their kids, but they're both very vague, i'm pretty sure u can understand the references without actually knowing them, if you hadn't figured it out, no biggie, this has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months so here you go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27230458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellejones_stacy/pseuds/michellejones_stacy
Summary: It wasn’t a big deal. Peter was gone when Harley woke up, and they didn’t talk about it.And then it happened again.So he went with it.orHarley might be in love with Peter, and he might not do all that good a job at hiding it. (And Tony loves his Idiot Children.)
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Harley Keener & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 272





	Harley Had a Problem

**Author's Note:**

> i just recently found out that Parkner (I know, I'm clueless) was a thing, and I am totally in love with it, so I just had to write something. this was supposed to be something short and then grew to +10k words and i regret nothing.
> 
> *the past child abuse tag refers to Harley, it's abuse in regards to how Harley's dad treated him, but in regards to Harley's mother it's more of child neglect  
> **the drug addiction tag refers to Harley's mom, not Harley or any other character that is tagged to be in this story.
> 
> first time writing Harley/Peter and just Harley in general (and this isn't beta-read) so feedback is definitely appreciated :)

Harley wasn't really sure how it started. All he knew is that one day he came home from working a night shift at the restaurant where he worked and Peter was in his bed. Too tired to do anything about it, Harley just stripped off his shirt, leaving his sweatpants on, and climbed into bed next to Peter and passed the fuck out until it was time for his morning class the next day.

It wasn’t a big deal. Peter was gone when Harley woke up, and they didn’t talk about it.

And then it happened again, about three days later.

Harley had to work the night shift on a Wednesday, and he stumbled into the dorm room to find all the lights off. He didn’t think that Peter would be asleep in his bed again, but when he walked into his room, he saw Peter spread out like a starfish under the covers. He paused this time, but he didn’t dwell on it for long—it was too late at night for that, and Harley wasn’t sure he would even be able to come to a viable conclusion that actually made sense.

So he went with it.

Peter, with a bit of prompting, shifted his position so, instead of being spread out over the entire bed, he was on the left side. After stripping down so he was wearing only sweatpants, like last time, Harley climbed under the covers and laid next to Peter, closing his eyes and settling in for a good night’s sleep of fewer than five hours.

Except, unlike last time, Peter stirred.

“Harls?” he said, his voice soft and sleepy and his curls falling over into his eyes “‘S that you?”

Harley snorted. Of course it was him. Who else would it be? For Peter’s sake, he should be hoping that the person climbing into bed next to him was Harley and _not_ someone else, like a serial killer.

“Yeah, Parker, it’s me.”

Peter hummed, turning over to lie on his stomach as he tucked an arm under one of Harley’s pillows, his brown hair splaying out. “‘Mkay. Night.”

Harley snorted again, eyes following the lines of Peter’s nose and cheekbones and lips. Peter was adorable when he was awake, of course he would be just as adorable, maybe even more so, when he was asleep. That thought made Harley freeze. Did he really just call Peter _adorable?_ Peter, his friend of however many years, his roommate, his—for all intents and purposes— _brother?_

They weren’t _really_ brothers, of course. They just - both saw Tony as a father. That had taken some getting used to when they were younger, mostly on Harley’s part. Peter was more than happy to have someone else to hang out with—the innocence of an only child—but Harley…

Harley got jealous. A lot. He didn’t want to have to share Tony with anyone, and he had this crazy thought that Peter would take Tony away from him because Peter was so much better. Peter had _superpowers_ , for God’s sake, and Harley was just plain Harley.

He got over it, though. He grew to like Peter, and Peter grew to like him more than he already did, and that’s part of the reason why they’re sharing a dorm room now, after they both made it into MIT, years later.

Harley stared up at the ceiling. His eyes screamed at him to close them, but he just couldn’t stop thinking. He was usually able to pass right out after a night shift, but tonight wasn't shaping up to be one of those nights.

Out of nowhere, Peter flung an arm out and covered Harley’s eyes with his hand, Harley’s eyelashes fluttering against Peter’s skin. “Go to sleep,” Peter whined, his voice thick with sleep, and a smile quirked at Harley’s mouth.

And, just to mess with sleepy Peter, Harley said, “But I’m not tired.”

His eyes brushed against Peter’s hand as he blinked. It was dark, but he could make out enough through the cracks between Peter’s fingers to see the ceiling.

Peter groaned. “It’s sleepy time, close your eyes.”

Harley made a fake-thinking sound before answering. “No, I think I’m good.”

“Harley, I will sit on you.”

A grin exploded on Harley’s face. “Bet you won’t.” Harley knew Peter. He never did things that would harm people, whether intentionally or not. Harley also knew that Peter would most definitely sit on him if he was baited well enough.

And that’s exactly what Peter did.

(Harley was steadily ignoring the reason _why_ he wanted Peter to sit on him.)

The hand over Harley’s eyes was removed, but Harley could barely process that because Peter was throwing himself on top of him. His breath punched out of his lungs as Peter landed on his chest. Peter’s chest was pressed against Harley’s, his legs on either side of his stomach, and Harley had to hold his breath as Peter leaned in and whispered, _“Boom,”_ into his ear.

Peter collapsed into giggles then, dropping all of his weight onto Harley and pressing their chests together in the process, and Harley’s eyes slipped close. He just barely resisted the urge to wrap his arms around Peter. He was so, _so_ tempted to do it, just to see what Peter would do, but Harley didn’t think he would be able to handle Peter pulling away.

So he just laid there.

He didn’t _like_ Peter, of course he didn’t, not in the way you'd like someone you were romantically interested in. Sure, Peter was cool, and funny—and sweet and adorable and everything that Harley had ever wanted in a guy—but that didn’t mean that Harley _liked_ him. Just the idea was ridiculous.

Peter was so far out of Harley’s league it should've been illegal, and Harley was never, _ever_ , going to let anyone know about just how much he wanted Peter to want him back.

Wait. No. Harley _didn’t like Peter_ , he didn’t want Peter to want him. He didn’t.

Okay, maybe he did. But just a little bit.

(Harley was a terrible liar.)

* * *

The next morning, Harley woke up alone, but he could hear Peter moving around in the kitchen. He rolled out of bed and, not bothering to put on a shirt, walked out of his room and towards the noise.

It seemed like Peter had the same idea as Harley because he was standing at the counter pouring a bowl of cereal while he was shirtless. Harley’s mouth dried up at the sight of the bare skin and Peter’s back muscles shifting as he moved. Peter wasn’t, like, ripped, or anything, but Harley could admit that the lean muscle was very attractive and made him want to do very dirty things. Like touch him and suck marks into Peter’s skin, and lick a stripe up Peter’s abs. You know, normal things.

Peter turned around and Harley’s heart expanded so fast he swore he almost died. Peter’s hair was wonderfully tousled and curly—not to mention the _abs_ —and he looked so fucking cute at that moment that Harley had to look away and count to ten to retain any semblance of dignity.

Harley knew he was gay, but being _this_ gay—and for just one person, no less—was new.

Peter’s bowl of cereal dropped to the floor as he turned around, and he started choking, Harley immediately moving to pat him on the back.

“Dude,” Peter choked out, the spoon still in his hand, the both of them ignoring the pieces of dry cereal at their feet, “why don’t you have a shirt on?”

Harley frowned. “You do realize that you don’t have a shirt on either, right?”

Peter looked down at himself before looking back up and practically leaping away from Harley’s arm on his back. That made Harley kind of irritated. Harley, after getting to know a person, was very touchy-feely—to his absolute disgust—and Peter was just a touching kind of person regularly, so there was no reason for him to be pulling away like Harley was carrying some sort of disease.

Harley knew that Peter was bisexual—you don’t get to the level of familiarity that they were at without revealing something like that—and Peter knew that Harley was gay, so it couldn’t have been that Peter was _uncomfortable_ or anything like that. Well, it could’ve been that but, as Harley said, Peter had never actively sought a way out of touching Harley, especially not over something as simple as him touching his back.

While Harley didn’t care who knew he was gay and who didn’t, not anymore, Peter was more sensitive about it. Peter only told the people that he was really close to, like his best friends and members of his family (a list that Harley had been ecstatic to be added to). He wasn’t all that open to telling just anyone or letting people know if they didn’t have to—that just wasn’t Peter.

And, as Peter hurried back to his room, the muscles in his back shifting rapidly, Harley wondered if someone had figured it out and said something to Peter—somebody figuring out what Peter considered his most important secret, besides being Spider-Man, would definitely be enough for him to start being more self-conscious about people, other boys especially, touching him.

The same thing had happened to Harley when he’d first discovered his sexuality and had started acting on it—someone had figured it out and called him homophobic names, and he’d freaked. He’d started to doubt whether or not he was actually gay—he was—and he’d made a desperate attempt to convince himself to like girls by dating a whole bunch of them. Yeah. Not his best moment.

He hoped Peter wasn’t going through that but, if he was, Harley just needed to wait and, hopefully, things between them would get back to normal—things were already awkward enough considering the fact that Harley was trying to hide his feelings for Peter, and he doubted their relationship needed twice the awkwardness it already had.

* * *

“No!” Harley hissed a little more than a week after the whole _Peter sleeping in his bed_ incident, as he pushed off the kitchen counter to stand up straight. “The last time you cooked, you set the microwave on fire!”

“Harley!” Peter gasped theatrically. “That was _one time_!”

“ _You put a can of soup in the microwave!_ " Harley shouted back, crossing his arms. 

"Yeah?" Peter said, mirroring Harley from where he was standing in front of him, crossing his arms. "And that was _one time_ , wasn’t it?”

Harley groaned, not understanding why he was harboring a crush on this idiot boy, and threw his hands up. “So are we just ignoring the time when you burned spaghetti? Which, by the way, _how do you burn spaghetti?_ ”

“It’s easy,” Peter defended.

“It’s really not,” Harley said. “And what about that time when you put hot pockets in the microwave and accidentally put it for twelve minutes instead of two and they caught on _fire_? The fire alarm went off while I was in the shower and I had to go into the hallway in _nothing but a towel_.” Peter looked down and mumbled something under his breath. “What?” Harley snapped.

Peter’s head shot up. His face turned red, and he averted his eyes back to the ground as he deflated. “Nothing. Fine, fine, you cook then.”

Harley immediately felt bad. Yes, he hadn’t wanted Peter to cook because that was a disaster waiting to happen, but he hadn’t wanted to make him feel bad, either. It was just that Tony was coming to the dorm to visit, and Harley wanted it to go perfectly for some strange reason. Like if it was a disaster, Tony would be disappointed and ignore Harley for a week. Harley’s mother had done that once, and Harley had _hated_ it, and he didn’t want Tony to do that, so.

He just wanted things to go well.

Deep down, he knew that Lisa Keener’s method of parenting hadn’t been the best and that Tony would never _ignore_ him, no matter what he did or didn’t do, but. The thought was a hard one to push away.

He didn’t know how to tell Peter all of that, though, so he just sighed and let his arms drop to the side. “I’ll teach you,” he grunted.

Peter slowly lifted his head. “What?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion in a way that Harley in no way found adorable, nope, not in the slightest.

“I’ll teach you,” Harley repeated. “How to make stuff. Cook. Not burn spaghetti. ‘S not a big deal.”

And to Peter, it might not have been. Harley grew up having to cook for Abby, because their mother had been high most of the time, and he ended up getting pretty good at it. Cooking was something he enjoyed doing, and he was starting to get into baking, too. You know, now that he could cook food for fun and not just so nobody in his house went hungry. So, yeah—it might not have been a big deal to Peter.

Except for Harley, it _was_ a big deal. It was a big deal because Peter’s face lit up with a smile and happiness and Harley had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. Harley was dying with the effort it was taking to hold himself back so he didn't do something extremely stupid, like take Peter into his arms and kiss the shit out of him. That would arguably be the stupidest thing Harley had ever done and would ever do, and he wasn't sure he wanted to set the bar for his stupidity _quite_ that high. Not yet, at least.

No, wait, not _ever_ —he wasn’t going to kiss Peter, he _wasn’t_. He didn't even want to.

Harley turned and walked towards the fridge, the beginning of Peter's growing grin stuck on a loop in his mind.

It was a miracle that Harley hadn't died from the huge amount of fucking pining his soul was engaging in. Honestly, just how pathetic was he?

With a sigh, Harley pulled out the meatballs he'd made earlier that day and turned back to Peter, who was standing next to him and practically vibrating with excitement.

He hoped that the night wouldn't end in disaster.

* * *

Surprisingly, things went really well.

Harley started Peter on a simple spaghetti sauce that didn't end up burning, so that was a win. The meatballs turned out pretty good, and Peter managed to not burn the spaghetti this time around.

Peter looked extremely proud of himself when everything was done, and Harley couldn't help the way his heart melted in his chest every time he glanced over at the other boy and was met with a blinding grin.

That was one of the things about Peter that he liked the most, Harley realized. He was bright and blinding and so freaking _happy_ all the time, and Harley was powerless in the face of all that.

At this rate, it was only a matter of time before Peter figured out the very non-platonic thoughts that Harley was having and their friendship was ending with a snap of his fingers. It was whatever, though—Harley would soak up as much of Peter as he could and then he would pretend to be perfectly fine when Peter didn't want to be around him anymore.

Yep. Perfectly fine.

* * *

"What's up?" Tony asked quietly later that Friday night, nudging Harley's arm with his own.

Harley wanted to tell Tony about the feelings he was starting to have—or, starting to _realize_ he was having, because Harley was pretty sure he'd been feeling this way for a while—about Peter, but it was a dangerous topic. Peter's hearing was much better than the average human's, and, even though they were talking quietly, Harley didn't want to risk it.

"Nothing," he responded, just as quiet as Tony had been.

Tony raised an eyebrow, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Really? Took you that long to say one word?"

Harley scowled. "You shut your face."

Tony laughed. "Ooh, I'm so scared." When Harley didn't laugh or make an attempt to say something back, the smile fell off his face and his eyebrows furrowed with worry. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

Harley opened his mouth, the words _I like Peter_ sitting on the tip of his tongue, but then he remembered that Peter could probably hear them talking. His mouth snapped shut. He didn't want to leave Tony without an answer—he wasn't _that_ rude—so he let his eyes trail suggestively to the direction of the bathroom, the sound of the toilet flushing reaching his ears, before meeting Tony's eyes again.

He watched as a lightbulb in the man's brain lit up and he was relieved when Tony nodded to show he understood.

Tony leaned in, lowering his voice even more. "Lunch tomorrow?"

Harley nodded in response, and Tony leaned back just as the bathroom door opened and Peter came bounding out.

His hands were still wet as he approached the table, dripping slightly at his sides. "We're out of paper towels," Peter told Harley, and then immediately flicked his wet hands in Tony's direction, a cry of " _Waterbend!_ " leaving him.

Harley had to fight every one of his facial muscles to not show the fondness that was threatening to burst out of his heart.

* * *

"So," Tony began, resting his elbows on the table between them and linking his hands together, looking at Harley from under the baseball cap he was wearing. Harley winced—he was _hungry_ and he had been looking at the diner's menu for barely thirty seconds. "What was the matter with you yesterday?"

For a second, Harley had to let himself revel in the gratitude and appreciation that filled his heart. After Tony had fixed up his garage all those years ago—most of which Harley had ended up having to sell for money to help feed Abby and make sure she had what she needed from school—the man had dropped out of his life. It was like Harley hadn't existed anymore. Sure, Tony had called now and then, but it wasn't the same as seeing and talking to him in person.

And then, one day, Tony had invited Harley out to New York and introduced him to Peter, and suddenly Tony became something akin to Harley's father. Except, you know, not an alcoholic dirtbag who physically beat on his son and wife up until he finally left them. If you disregarded that fact—and the fact that Harley's dad was an asshole through and through and Tony was just, _better_ —then, yeah, Tony was like Harley's father.

Tony had allowed Harley to come to visit him and Peter every other week, and they'd all grown closer to one another, and Harley loved Tony for that. He'd never had anyone in his life who genuinely cared about what happened to him—and wasn't a blood relative; Abby cared, Harley knew she did—and suddenly having a new father figure that was better than his actual father had been was awesome.

"Harley?" Tony questioned. "You gotta stop zoning out on me here."

“Sorry,” Harley said, looking around the diner and avoiding looking at Tony.

He could feel Tony’s worried gaze on him, and he wasn’t all that sure on how to deal with it. His mother had stopped caring about what was wrong with him before Harley turned twelve, so he wasn’t used to open displays of someone _caring_ about him. Harley wasn’t sure how he felt about that, to be honest—on one hand, it felt nice, knowing that someone cared, but on the other, Harley didn’t know how to handle it. Was he supposed to do something? Like, was he supposed to acknowledge that he enjoyed the fact that Tony was worried, or was that not something people did?

The entire situation was so far out of Harley’s grasp, and he was lowkey starting to freak out, just a little.

And then Tony started talking, and Harley said something that he immediately regretted.

“Look, if it’s something at school, I could–”

“I like Peter!” Harley interrupted, his heart pounding as he glared down at the table between them. Realizing the information he’d revealed, information that he hadn’t wanted to give up, he quickly added, “I think.”

Tony didn’t respond and that was when Harley truly started to panic. He kept his gaze steadily trained on the table as his heart started beating faster, thumping against the inside of his chest. His eyes started to burn with the effort it was taking to not let his eyes well up with tears because maybe this would be when Tony decided that it was just too much work to deal with Harley.

Finally, after working himself up to it, Harley chanced a look up at Tony.

He was surprised beyond belief to see Tony with a blinding smile on his face.

“What are you smiling about?” Harley asked, his voice carefully emotionless even though he wanted to scream.

“You,” Tony said, trying and failing to hold in his laughter. “Harley, you are such a dumbass.”

“Hey, c’mon now, that’s rude. If I’m a dumbass, what does that make you?”

“You see, and normally I would take offense to that, but this is just too good,” Tony responded before he continued to laugh.

“What is your problem?” Harley asked, kind of horrified as Tony’s gleeful laughter rang out around the diner. He was starting to become genuinely worried for the man’s sanity. “Oh God, are you finally snapping? I know you’re, like, sixty, but I didn't think it would happen this early.”

Tony would’ve normally engaged down that road of banter, Harley knew that like he knew the back of his own hand, but this time he just shook his head and continued to laugh.

Harley scowled and glared down at the table, embarrassed and still a little scared, and that was when Tony finally decided to stop laughing at Harley’s misery and have a normal conversation.

“Look, kid,” he said, his voice full of a type of amusement that Harley wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of. It was nice and _fatherly_ , and yes, he and Tony had that type of relationship—they were starting to get there, at the very least—but type of love was mostly full of jabs at each other, not loving amusement with fond glances. “Maybe you’ve just figured this out, but it’s been obvious that you like Peter. I knew in the beginning, before you finally got over yourself and stopped trying to find reasons to hate him."

Harley felt all of the blood drain out of his face and the urge to throw up rose pretty quickly. God, Harley knew Peter had to have known, it’s not like Harley was being extremely _subtle_ about it, not like he usually was with his crushes. “ _Obvious?_ ” Harley choked out, his throat tight. “Obvious _how?_ Obvious like Peter _knows_ –”

“No, no,” Tony was quick to reassure, “I’m pretty sure that Pete doesn’t know.” At Harley’s disbelieving glance, he added, “It’s _Peter_ , Harley, the kid wouldn’t know unless you told him. Probably.” Tony sighed and shook his head. “Anyway, my point is, I’ve known for a while. I can’t believe you thought that I _didn’t_ know.” Tony laughed, shaking his head again with a fond, “Idiot.”

Harley was still so unbelievably out of his element with this—Peter was usually the one that got the fond words and glances, and Harley was usually the one that got the side of Tony that was, yes, less emotionally connected, but still a father figure and not any less _Tony_. He didn’t even know where he was going with that, but the fact of the matter was that _Tony knew_ and that meant that Peter did, too. Maybe. Tony was right, after all—Peter was so oblivious to the things that were right in front of him.

But that was one of the things that Harley liked about Peter, too—he was so innocent and pure and _good_ and it was a refreshing change from the shithole of a species that was humanity.

“Hey,” Harley protested weakly, “That’s mean.”

“Don’t worry, Peter’s dumb, too. Both of you are my idiot children, and there’s no reason to be ashamed of that.”

Harley didn’t answer, too caught up with thinking about something. “Is it weird?” he asked quietly. “Me liking Peter,” he elaborated after Tony gave him a questioning look.

“No? Why would it be?”

“I don’t know,” Harley said. “We both see you as… We’re both your…”

“Kids?” Tony offered up, relaxing back against the booth as Harley nodded. “Harley, as long as you’re not biologically related to him, I don’t see it as a problem. Actually, it makes it easier on me, 'cause if you two do get together I don't have to pretend to like your significant other. Which is a win for all of us, believe me."

“Yeah, but… he’s my _brother_.”

Tony studied him for a second before leaning forward. “I’m going to ask you a question,” he began, “and I want you to be honest. I know you say a lot of things to deflect from your feelings, and if I hadn’t done extensive research on the subject I’d probably say you got it from me, but I need you to answer _honestly_. Can you do that?”

Harley nodded, bracing himself. Anytime Tony asked him to be honest, a deep, emotionally moving question usually followed. But he still tried to answer as honestly as possible, even if it sometimes physically pained him to do so.

“Have you ever even seen Peter as a brother?”

Harley immediately stopped breathing.

“Even after you stopped insulting him twenty-four-seven, which was incredibly annoying, by the way, did you ever, in any way, see him as a brother?”

See, the thing was that _no_ , Harley had never really seen Peter as a brother. Sure, everyone always referred to them as brothers, but Harley had never looked at Peter and thought _hey, there’s my brother, my bro, my broski, who I like in a familial way and nothing more._ Okay, he _had_ thought that on occasion, but that was only when he was trying to convince himself that he didn’t like Peter in a romantic way, and that obviously didn’t work out. But back to the point.

Harley knew that, for all intents and purposes, he was Peter’s brother and Peter was his, but he always saw Peter as a guy friend who he happened to be really close to and secretly like. He’d never thought about Peter in the same way he would’ve been if he was thinking about Abby, and that right there was the deciding factor.

“Fuck,” he said simply, staring at Tony in shock.

“I’m going to take that as a no,” Tony said smugly, leaning back again. “You’re hopeless, bud, I hope you know that.”

And, yeah, Harley was starting to think that he was.

* * *

So, it wasn’t that Harley didn’t trust Tony’s advice, he just. Trusted Pepper’s more.

Tony was smart, yeah, and was probably right, but he wanted a second opinion and that second opinion in particular just happened to be Pepper’s. It was nothing against Tony, okay, it wasn’t his fault if he liked listening to Pepper more than he did Tony.

Regardless of which parental figure he liked more, Harley just really wanted to talk to Pepper. Which is why, instead of going straight back to the dorm where Peter probably was, he walked to a park close by, sat down on a bench relatively away from people, and called her.

She picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said, and Harley felt something deep in his chest relax the slightest bit. “How are you?”

“Good. I guess.”

Pepper hummed. “What’s wrong?”

Harley blew out a breath of air. “I just. Realized something.”

“Is it bad?”

“...Kind of?”

Pepper’s laugh came through the phone, and Harley smiled.

“Is it something about Peter?” she said knowingly, and Harley sighed.

“You knew, too?”

Another laugh. “Of course I did, Harley. What kind of parent would I be if I didn’t?”

Harley was decidedly not feeling any warmth in his chest at Pepper calling herself his parent. None at all. Nope. No warm, fuzzy feelings here.

“Is that how Tony knew?”

“Who do you think told him?” she asked, sounding smug, and Harley was so very glad that this woman had ended up in his life.

Harley talked to Pepper for a little while longer, talking about his new realization of feelings and what that meant for his and Peter’s relationship. Harley was scared that this would ruin things, but Pepper seemed convinced that everything would turn out fine.

And even though a large part of him doubted it, he really hoped she was right.

* * *

When he got back to the dorm room, the living room and kitchen lights were off.

“Peter?” he called out, turning on the living room.

Harley dropped his keys in the bowl they kept on a small table by the door, and he saw that Peter’s were already in there and that meant that Peter had to have been in the dorm. At first, he didn’t know why Peter wasn’t answering him like he usually did, but then he saw the box of elbow pasta and grated cheese sitting out on the counter and he understood.

Mac and cheese was Peter’s—Harley searched his mind for the right word—comfort food. Whenever something wrong or bad happened on patrol, Peter usually asked Harley to make him mac and cheese. Which Harley did without complaint, for those who were wondering.

Without saying anything more, Harley set his bag down on the small couch and moved into the kitchen. As he got started on making the mac and cheese, he thought about what might’ve happened. Usually, Peter was right there waiting for Harley to walk in the front door to ask for mac and cheese, and the fact that he wasn’t this time made Harley think that it had to be serious.

He finished up the mac and cheese and silently separated it into two bowls, grabbing two forks, before he took it into Peter’s room.

Just like the rest of the dorm, Peter’s room had the light turned off and Peter wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Right as Harley was starting to worry—where could Peter be?—he heard a sob come from his room.

He was bursting through the door to his room, bowls still in his hands, in under ten seconds, and his eyes immediately landed on the lump on his bed. It was shaking without making any sound, and Harley knew that Peter was the lump and that Peter was crying.

Oh, God. Harley didn’t do well with tears, that was a well-known fact about him that everybody who’d ever cried while in front of him knew. This was going to end in disaster.

Harley took a step forward, trying to be as quiet as possible, but, of course, Peter heard it anyway. Damn superpowers, ruining Harley’s every attempt to be sneaky.

The covers flew back to reveal Peter’s red and tear-stained face, and, before Harley could even process movement, Peter was hugging him. He almost dropped the bowls of mac and cheese, but he didn’t, so that was good. The problem here was the fact that Peter was squeezing him tight enough to hurt and he could feel his shirt getting wet.

Swallowing, Harley summoned up every ounce of social interaction skills he’d ever learned and asked, “What’s wrong?”

He spent the rest of the night calming down and reassuring Peter—Ned had gotten into an accident while he was driving home after a late-night grocery run and ended up breaking a leg and a couple of ribs. They ate the mac and cheese, and Harley tried not to be too happy about the way Peter stayed pressed up against his side until they both fell asleep because this was _not a happy time and Harley shouldn’t be finding enjoyment in it._

Did it make him a bad person if he didn’t really care?

* * *

The next noticeable interaction where Harley thought and consciously acknowledged his feelings for Peter came on a Friday evening, six days after Ned had gotten into his accident.

Peter slammed down a coffee cup on the table where Harley was sitting, keeping his hold on his laptop and a textbook, along with a pencil case full of writing utensils.

Harley needed to study for a big exam coming up, one that he was not at all confident in his ability to pass, but he still took the time to examine the fierce look in Peter’s eyes as he towered over him. Leaning back in his chair at the library table he was sitting at, Harley cataloged Peter’s hoodie—it might’ve been Harley’s hoodie, now that he was actually looking—and the way that it’s hood covered his brown curls, and the fact that Peter was also wearing sweatpants and he looked the most haggard that Harley had ever seen him.

And he was fucking adorable.

God, Harley had a problem.

“I have a five-page paper due tomorrow that I haven’t started,” Peter announced loudly, ignoring the other people that shushed him as he dropped the textbook down on the table across from Harley and placed his laptop down next to it, collapsing into the chair soon after. Honestly, they were both lucky that it was a Friday evening and most other students were out doing things—people in the libraries could get very aggressive when someone was too loud, Harley had seen it firsthand.

“Why are you only just starting today?” Harley questioned, actually wanting to know the answer, unlike when he asked questions about the lives of his other classmates.

Harley wasn’t _rude_ , okay, he just. Didn’t care about the personal matters of other people all that much and only asked when the social situation explicitly required it. And that wasn’t self-centered or anything—at least not to Harley it wasn’t—because it wasn’t like Harley went around talking about his own personal matters.

For some reason, though, he wanted to hear about every problem Peter was having so he could _help_ , and just because he also wanted to hear Peter talk. Harley was kind of in love with the way Peter’s voice sounded, and the way his speech sped up when he was excited or passionate about anything (which was everything, in case you were wondering). Peter was excitable and like an over-sized puppy, and Harley wanted to make sure that Peter had the opportunity to talk about things. Harley didn’t have a problem with doing that—he didn’t talk a lot, not even with the people he truly had a connection with.

“Because there’s been an uptake in crime in this fucking city, and every night for the entire three weeks I've had to write it, I’ve been coming home and passing out because I’m _exhausted_ and I haven’t had any time.” He stared Harley dead in the eyes—Peter looked a little dead on the inside, but Harley was going to ignore that—and picked up his coffee. “This is the fourth cup of coffee I’ve had in the past hour, and I want to _die_. Will you kill me?”

Harley grinned. “‘Fraid I can’t do that, Parker. Tony’s coming again in three days and you know how much the old man hates it when one of us can’t make it.”

Peter sagged, dropping his head against the table with a thud. “I crave death, Harl,” he said, the words muffled. “There’s no hope for me, I might as well drop out now.”

“Hey, now, don’t talk like that. You’ll be fine.” Harley looked down at his spread of textbooks across the table. He really needed to study, but… Peter’s problem seemed more important, and Harley could always pull an all-nighter to get it done. His exam was in a week, anyway and even though he wanted to start as early as possible, he could afford to put it off for a day.

“I’ll help you,” he said firmly, his mind already made up.

Peter lifted his head slowly, and Harley, wondering how he’d missed them, saw dark bags under his eyes. “What?”

“I’ll help you,” Harley repeated, closing and then stacking his textbooks together at a distance away from them. “What class is this for?”

The grateful look Peter gave him then sent Harley’s heart racing and he _really_ hoped he wasn’t imagining the implications surging through his mind when Peter’s foot linked with his under the table.

* * *

They managed to finish the paper a little before one in the morning, and, while both of them admitted it wasn’t either of their best work, it was still, hopefully, going to be good enough to get Peter at least a B on it.

Harley couldn’t stop himself from completely sinking into the hug that Peter gave him while sounding close to tears when the paper started printing out.

Harley thought about Tony’s words to him as they drove back to the dorm after the lunch they’d shared, the lunch when Harley had discovered that he was, to everyone but Peter, extremely obvious about his feelings.

_Just tell him, Harley. If he says yes then you have a boyfriend, and if he says no then he says no._

Yeah, Peter will have said no, and Harley would be dying from the combination that mortification and rejection would have on his heart.

This was fucking ridiculous. He’d turned down many guys who wanted to take him out for a date because he was so caught up on Peter fucking Parker. Harley wanted to stop liking Peter, but, at the same time, he hoped that he liked Peter for the rest of his life because he didn’t _want_ anyone else.

He wanted everything with Peter—kisses and hugs and cuddles and breakfasts in the morning and dates, and he knew he wasn’t ever going to be able to get it and it felt like that realization was slowly killing him from the inside.

It seemed like Harley never got anything he wanted in life, no matter how trivial or important it was, and, at this point, he was willing to accept it if it meant accepting that Peter was never going to like him back, not in the same way that Harley felt.

Saying that felt wrong. Harley didn’t just _like_ Peter—he was more than seventy percent sure that he was already halfway _in love_ with Peter. That made things worse, though. If Harley was in love with Peter, that meant he was, he didn’t know, acting like a girl, pining over someone and angsting over the fact that he could never have them.

Because he _couldn’t_ have Peter. Harley was pretty sure and well aware that Peter saw Harley as his little bit older brother, and people didn’t do relationship things with their little bit older brothers. And even if there was the slight chance that Peter _didn’t_ see him as a brother, there was still the chance that Peter wouldn’t want to date him.

And that was an outcome that Harley didn't want to think about.

Because, as he’d said before, Peter was _Peter_ , and Harley was just - _Harley_.

(He knew that didn’t make sense, okay, but he thought he was allowed to not make sense and say crazy things sometimes.)

* * *

Alright, it was now officially and one-hundred percent confirmed—Harley had a problem.

He was becoming much too comfortable with his feelings for Peter, and that was _dangerous_.

They had a routine. Harley and Peter both usually didn't have anything to do on Sundays where Tony wasn't coming to visit, so they usually stayed in the dorm and relaxed for the entire day. It was their lazy day, a day where they didn't do schoolwork—unless it was important—and they didn't go out and do things, they stayed plopped down in front of the TV and watched movies meant for children half their age.

Peter gasped dramatically, his attention fully on the TV in front of them. He sat criss-cross on the couch next to Hardly, leaning forward a small amount. He gasped again, this time saying, " _Hans._ That rat bastard."

Not for the first time, Harley wondered why his heart had decided that it wanted this idiot for the rest of his life.

"Bro, we've seen this movie like a hundred times."

"And I never see it coming," Peter responded gravely, shaking his head. "This is why you can never marry someone you just met, Anna, honestly, Elsa was right."

Harley shook his head—the first time Peter had heard Hans' evil villain monologue to Anna, he started sobbing. The second time, he teared up. And the third time and the fourth time and every time after, it was just Peter's commentary on how Hans was a _rat bastard_ and Harley should not have found that as adorable as he did.

But it was Peter, and Harley found everything that Peter did adorable. That was just how Peter worked, and that was just how Harley’s brain decided to see things.

Peter was lucky that Harley was in love with him and probably had been for years—he was sure that anyone else would’ve been much less tolerant of (happy to engage in) Peter’s antics. He knew many people on campus that found Peter to be a bit too _much_ , too much to handle, too much to be around—he had just barely restrained himself from punching one of those people; it was Peter, and nobody was allowed to say mean things about him except maybe Harley and Tony and May—and he was glad that he’d become friends with the boy. Otherwise, Peter may have had a roommate who hated him and all the quirks that came with him and Harley hated even thinking about that being something that could have actually happened.

Maybe it would’ve been better, though. If Harley’s heart hadn’t gone and done something as stupid as to fall in love with someone that he had basically no chance with, maybe Harley wouldn’t be bouncing back and forth between the feelings of at least _I’m around him_ and _someone just kill me now_. The whole thing was very emotionally draining on Harley’s part, and he wasn’t sure just how long he could keep it up.

Still, Harley knew deep down that he wouldn’t change the past for anything because he had Peter now. Maybe not exactly in the way that he wanted, but he still had him. He got to see Peter’s unruly curls in the mornings, and the way that his eyes shined when he was anything other than sad, and the way he sometimes forgot that he was supposed to not do anything Spider-Man related outside of the suit and still managed to accidentally scale a wall in front of a crowd of people.

That last incident had been covered up by Peter telling everyone he was into parkour and Harley secretly letting everyone know that he would end their prospective careers before they even started if what they saw ever made it online with Peter’s name attached to it. It took a lot of alluding to his friendship with Tony—and maybe some secret veiled threats from Tony himself—but Harley considered that a necessary action.

Peter didn’t know about Harley’s role in that situation, and he never would. It wasn’t like Harley would ever tell him.

"No, but this man was so desperate for a kingdom that he had to manipulate the feelings and innocence of a young girl? Like?" Peter flailed his arms wildly and Harley ducked his head to hide a smile. "Who does that? What kind of man does that make you? If I was the youngest brother and was pretty much guaranteed to not sit on the throne, I'd run away and become a farmer. Live the simple life."

“Of course you would,” Harley said, fondness bleeding through despite his efforts to stop it.

He could totally see Peter doing that—running away to become a farmer. Peter would be good at it. He’s hard-working and determined. He’d also probably go hungry most days because he’d give most of his food to other people who needed it more, but that was just who Peter was.

And Harley loved him.

He wanted to tell Peter, he wanted to tell him how much his heart sang every time he saw him, how happiness and every other positive emotion on the planet rushed over him anytime Peter did - _anything_. There were so many things that Harley wanted Peter to know, but fear is what stopped him. All the different _what-ifs_ ran through Harley’s brain, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to allow any of them to play out.

“What are you always thinking about?” Peter asked, nudging Harley’s shoulder with his own.

Well, fuck. Of course _now_ would be when Peter would finally start to catch on.

“What do you mean?” Harley responded, aiming to keep his voice casual so Peter wouldn’t gain any information.

“Like, I don’t know—you just always seem to be thinking about something.” Peter shrugged. “And you get this little line in between your eyebrows like it’s really bothering you. So…” Peter said, nudging Harley again. “What’s up?”

Harley was _not_ going to tell Peter, he most definitely wasn’t, it wasn’t happening. Peter was never going to find out, Harley would do everything in his power to make sure of that, and everything would be good because Peter would still be Harley’s _friend_. And Peter’s friendship was the most important thing in the world to Harley and he couldn't ruin that or give it up.

“Nothing,” Harley said, lifting a hand to ruffle Peter’s hair. He left it there, so his hand was buried in Peter’s curls, and Peter took it upon himself to lower his head into Harley’s lap. And Harley may have wanted to keep his relationship with Peter on a platonic level and not torture himself any longer, but Harley was also a weak, weak man who really wasn’t able to help himself when Peter showed he was comfortable enough to touch him casually like this. “‘M just.” Harley blew out a harsh puff of air. “Stressed out about something.”

Boom. Harley was a genius.

“Oh.” Peter shifted his body, rolling so his face was pressed against Harley’s stomach. Harley felt his warm breath against his stomach before Peter pulled away and was staring up at him with his big, brown eyes. Harley felt his entire face soften, which was a _huge problem_ but he couldn’t be too concerned about it, not when Peter said, “I’m here if you wanna talk about it,” in his wonderful soft and sympathetic voice.

And Harley loved him so _much_.

But then Peter continued. And Harley’s entire world came crashing down.

“We’re like… Anna and Elsa. After they got their shit together, of course, but I think you know what I mean.”

Anna and Elsa. _Anna_ and _Elsa_. _Anna and Elsa._

God, of course Peter would see them like, not just friends, but as actual _siblings_. And, sure, maybe they technically were, but Harley didn’t see them like that and it _hurt_. It hurt so much. He felt like his heart was shredding itself to pieces in his chest, and he was pretty sure that pain was showing on his face because Peter asked him what was wrong.

Harley could only manage to shake his head and make a firm decision.

If Peter saw them as brothers, then that’s what Harley would try to see them as, too. For the good of their friendship.

He just had to stop letting his damn feelings getting in the way of that.

* * *

All things considered, Harley figured he was doing a pretty good job at hiding his feelings for Peter. He was still pining, of course he was, but he was less open, less _obvious_ , about it.

For the next two weeks after the _Anna and Elsa_ comment, Harley barely even looked at Peter’s naked torso whenever it happened to be on display. He didn’t outright avoid physical contact, but he firmly didn’t blush when Peter went in for a hug. He still didn't make a big deal when Peter slept in his bed on the days where he had to work the night shift, even though he enjoyed it greatly, probably more than he should have. And he absolutely did not choke on his food when Peter sat down at dinner one night and made an offhand comment about wanting to be in a relationship.

He _did_ choke on his water but that wasn’t important.

(And the fact that he avoided Peter for a week after wasn’t important, either. And neither was the fact that Tony and sometimes Pepper, when she was here, both gave him the saddest looks whenever they saw Harley actively avoiding Peter or doing something else that wasn't normal.)

What was important was the fact that Peter didn’t know, he would never know, and Harley was still safe in all his secrecy.

Well. Mostly safe.

Because sometimes Peter did something and Harley wasn’t able to hide his reaction as much as he wanted to. When that happened, Harley left as quickly as possible, not seeing the crestfallen look that crossed Peter’s face.

Today was going to be a hard day, mostly because he was going to have to sit next to Peter for an entire day and think platonic thoughts. It wasn’t like it was _hard_ to do that, it was just that those kinds of thoughts weren’t Harley’s go-to when it came to thinking about Peter.

He was pretty sure that thinking _I wish I could kiss the shit out of him_ wasn’t exactly the most platonic of thoughts. Unless they were the type of friends that kissed each other, which Harley doubted they were, so.

Looked like Harley was going to be pretending he wasn't in love with Peter for a few hours. Yay.

It was time for their customary lazy day, but Peter wasn't up yet, so Harley was waiting for him. He was laying down on the couch, but he let his head hang off the armrest. It allowed him to see into the hallway and made it easier to see when Peter came out. Well, it _should’ve_ made it easier—Harley ended up falling asleep, even with the uncomfortable position his neck was in.

The reason he quickly snapped awake was because Peter, shirtless and in all of his sleep-caused clumsiness—and his regular clumsiness, to be honest; one would think that having superpowers would make you graceful, but Harley had seen first-hand evidence that made that assumption incorrect—rammed his shoulder into the wall.

Harley, now awake, looked over to see Peter blinking in confusion at the wall his shoulder had run into. Peter stared blankly, and then reached out a hand to pat the wall and said, "Sorry, Mister."

He stumbled over to the couch, rubbing at one of his eyes as he yawned and somehow missed the way Harley laughed like he was going to die. Peter collapsed on top of Harley, their chests pressing together, and made it so his head was buried in Harley's neck, which stopped his laughter pretty quickly.

Shit.

Harley felt his face heat up because Peter was _right there_ and it would’ve been _so easy_ to wrap his arms around him and just open his mouth and _tell him_. But Harley was an idiot. And a little bit of a coward, too, so.

Clearing his throat and steadily keeping his arms down like the coward he was, he asked, "What do you wanna watch?"

Peter hummed, snuggling in more and staying there for a second before he, finally, turned his head so his face was facing the back of the couch and his lips weren't pressed right up against Harley's neck. "Don't know," he said, (thankfully) not catching the way Harley’s entire body went limp out of relief. And a little bit of disappointment. But mostly relief. Totally.

Harley searched his mind for TV shows that both he and Peter enjoyed watching. "Merlin?" he suggested, smiling when Peter wiggled happily.

Harley was more of a movie kind of guy himself, but Peter usually stuck to TV shows so he could binge-watch them and stay up all night. Peter had introduced him to Merlin not soon after they’d started their now customary Lazy Sundays, and Harley liked it. Not because of the extremely obvious sexual tension between Arthur and his manservant, oh no, definitely not that—only heterosexual behaviors there—but because it was a good show.

Regardless, Harley liked it, and Peter liked it, so they watched it. A lot. More than they probably should have, but that didn’t matter.

“Or,” Peter added out of nowhere, his voice tentative as he shifted again and caused Harley to hold in a grunt of pain as an elbow dug into his torso. “We could just… stay like this?”

Harley shrugged, the motion feeling weird because of the extra weight, trying not to convey how much he wanted to stay with Peter on the couch. “Sure, if you want.”

Peter let out a sigh. “Thanks. I’m still a little tired.”

“Yeah, I saw that,” Harley laughed. “I’m gonna have to check the wall for damages.”

“Hey,” Peter said, moving a hand to pinch Harley’s side. “I apologized, didn’t I?”

“Saw that, too. You’re a weird guy, you know that?”

Harley laughed as Peter pinched his side again.

“Don’t start with me, Keener,” Peter warned, the smile audible in his light-hearted tone.

“Oh, I think I’m starting, Parker."

A smile of his own grew into a grin that stretched across Harley's face.

“I will web you to the ceiling and leave you there,” Peter told him, pulling back to stare right into Harley’s face.

Harley had to smile at the look on Peter’s face. It was bold and smug, practically daring Harley to continue down the road of teasing him. He clearly thought that he had Harley beat, that Harley would back down from his teasing just because of a measly threat like that. Harley had no sense of self-preservation or just regard for his personal safety in general, and he had to admit that being webbed to the ceiling sounded like a cool experience. So, really, the joke was on Peter.

“Ooh,” Harley teased. “Someone’s getting feisty.”

Peter rolled his eyes but his smile didn't fade, so Harley took that as a win. He wasn't competing in anything, but he felt like the fact that he could get Peter to roll his eyes in annoyance _while smiling_ said a lot of good things about him and his personality.

He knew that was at least _mildly_ egotistical and kind of arrogant, but Harley was going to attribute that to being around Tony too much. Tony was full of himself but in a good way—Harley didn’t know what he was saying—and Harley really couldn’t be faulted for picking up a few of the man’s personality traits. So, yeah, it was Tony’s fault.

“You’re such an ass,” Peter muttered, settling back down against Harley’s chest.

Harley didn’t comment, mostly because he knew Peter didn’t really mean it—he could feel the boy’s smile against his neck, so he knew that Peter was (partly) joking around. Because, yeah, Harley was an ass, just not all the time to Peter in general, and he had a feeling that Peter was aware of that, even if he wasn’t aware of just how much less of an ass Harley was to him and exactly why that was.

He blew out a sigh, his breath causing Peter’s curls to move slightly. Harley wasn’t prepared when Peter abruptly pushed off again, moving around so he was sitting on Harley’s upper thighs—dangerously close to his crotch, but Harley was firmly _not thinking_ about that as his heart rate started to rise—and he definitely wasn’t prepared when Peter glared down at him.

“What?” he asked, looking up at Peter.

Peter frowned, a line forming in between his eyebrows, the expression unfamiliar to Harley.

“ _What?_ ” Peter repeated, with a lot more attitude than Harley had said it with. “You know what. You’ve been acting weird for close to a month.”

Fuck, fuck, shit no, please not now. Harley was not doing this here and now, he wasn’t, he didn’t want to, he _wasn’t ready_. Fuck.

“No I haven’t.”

Deny, deny, deny.

“Yes you have,” Peter insisted, shifting slightly. “You’ve been - I don’t know. _Weird._ ”

And Harley didn’t have a comeback for that.

He wasn’t _prepared_ , alright, and while he was usually good at lying about how he was feeling, he was a bit more inexperienced when it came to lying about the feelings he was having for another _person_. Mostly because he’d never really liked a ton of people, but also partly because he’d never felt the need to deny who he liked—he wasn’t ashamed, and it wasn’t like he could just _stop_ having feelings for somebody.

But this was different. This was Harley liking _Peter_ , and Peter wasn’t supposed to find out until Harley was _ready_ , which. He _wasn’t_. At all. In the slightest.

“I mean,” Peter continued after Harley didn’t respond, “you’ve always been a little weird and I didn’t judge you for it because I’m weird, too, but, like–”

As Peter went on and on about how long Harley had been acting weird, Harley tried not to have a heart attack. He didn’t think Peter had noticed how “weird” he was acting. Harley thought that the whole _starting to like Peter_ thing had begun not soon after Harley had realized that Tony loved the both of them equally and didn’t replace Harley with Peter. The thing was that Harley got weird around the people he liked, and considering the fact that Harley was in love with Peter, it was only a matter of time before he found out.

Luckily, Peter was still the most oblivious person Harley had ever met. He seemed to know that Harley was, and had been for a long time, acting weird, but he didn’t seem to know _why_ Harley had started acting weird. Which Harley counted as a win.

Peter knowing that Harley liked him could ruin _everything_ , and Harley wasn’t sure he was ready for that possibility. He wasn’t sure he’d _ever_ be ready, but that was a problem for another day. Right now, he had to convince Peter that nothing was wrong, which should’ve been simple enough.

Except Harley was flustered and more than a little terrified, and he tended to say all the wrong things when that happened. It was a knee-jerk reaction, he couldn’t help it.

“I’m fine,” Harley said, much too loudly, even to his own ears. “Nothing’s wrong, you just - have an overactive imagination.”

Internal cringe.

Unsurprisingly, Peter didn’t buy it.

His eyebrows raised as he stared down at Harley, and Harley’s heart started doing this weird thing where it beat in a rhythm that alternated between fast and slow and hard and not-so-hard, and, honestly, Harley was kind of worried he was having a heart attack. “An overactive imagination. Really? That’s what you’re going with?” Peter shook his head, eyes catching on Harley’s chest for a brief moment before looking back into his eyes. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Harley pushed across his best scowl, which, unfortunately, seemed very weak in the face of Peter. Like it always did. Fuck, Harley was terrible at this.

“I said nothing’s wrong,” Harley insisted, his heart continuing to do that weird thing. “Okay?”

“No!” Peter exclaimed. “It’s not okay!” His eyes traveled from Harley’s face down to his chest again, and a frown grew on his face. “Dude, you’re not going to have a heart attack or anything, right?” At Harley’s confused look, Peter said, “Your heart sounds really weird.”

Harley’s eyes widened because _what_. “You can hear my heart.”

That was both creepy on so many levels and so amazingly cool. Harley was feeling a little conflicted, both because Peter was literally like, _Superman_ , or something, but also because that meant that Peter could probably tell when Harley was lying. Which was a lot more often than it used to be.

Peter seemed to realize what he’d said and how it could be taken. “No! Well, _yes_ , but no. Heartbeats aren’t, like, _loud_ , or anything, they’re kind of muffled, really, but I can hear them if I focus enough. And yours is _pounding_ , and really unsteady.” Peter paused. “You’re not, like, doing drugs, are you? Like, I know you wouldn’t but you’re acting really - different, I guess.”

Harley’s heart sunk. He wasn’t, he knew that, and he tried to tell himself that Peter _didn’t_ know that, and that everything was okay. But it wasn’t okay. The fact that Peter was even insinuating that Harley would ever do drugs hurt. A lot.

Harley wasn’t blaming him. Peter didn’t know that Harley had seen his mother overdose time and time again after his father left, Peter didn’t know that Harley was the one that had called the doctor that lived next door for help every time it happened, that he’d had to beg him not to call the cops because he didn’t want Abby to have to grow up in the system or lose her brother and mother. Peter _didn’t know_ , and that was mostly Harley’s fault but his mother and her drug problem wasn’t something that Harley liked to advertise, even to people he knew and was close to. Tony knew, but that was only because Harley had broken down when his mom had landed in the hospital because of yet another overdose and social services had been called in, and even then it wasn’t like Tony knew the whole story behind it.

Peter didn’t know and that was okay, but Harley wasn’t exactly thinking straight right now, any mention of his mother, even by himself, always did that to him, and he needed to get away before he completely broke down in front of the last person he wanted to break down in front of.

“Get off, Peter,” Harley said, his voice tight and strained.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Just get off,” he snapped, panic rising in his veins as he felt tears force their way to the surface of his eyes.

“Harley,” Peter said softly, lifting a hand to press against Harley’s cheek, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone. “What’s wrong?”

And Harley didn’t want to tell him, but - it was _Peter_. It was Peter, and he wanted to know what was wrong, and Harley was really bad at lying to him and he didn’t _want_ to lie to him, not anymore and definitely not about this.

But he couldn’t say it, either. He couldn't force the words out, couldn’t sit there and tell Peter about his mother and her drug problem and how he was so scared that he would end up some dark, disfigured combination of both his parents.

So he settled for not saying anything.

Peter sighed. “I know you wouldn’t do drugs, Harls. Tony would kick you across the world if he suspected you were even _thinking_ about it.” He shifted a bit, face falling from the slight amusement it had taken on back into the look of seriousness that made Harley want to hide out in his room until it went away. “I just - you’re acting really different, you have been for a while, and I just want to know what I can do to help.”

God, and this was yet another reason why Harley loved Peter. Peter was just so wholesome and helpful and a genuinely good person, and Harley was a sucker for all of that.

And that was Harley’s downfall.

Thinking about how much he loved Peter and why, exactly, he loved him was great, it always was, but Harley let himself get sucked into those thoughts, and the next thing he knew his lips were pressed against Peter’s. He didn’t even realize at first, didn’t even register that Peter was frozen—whether from shock or just disgust wasn’t clear—until a loud car horn blared from outside and he jerked away.

Eyes wide, Harley stared up at Peter and tried not to freak out. He was failing miserably.

“Oh God,” Harley said, something deep in his chest spiraling even deeper because he _always_ did this, he always had to ruin anything good in his life, and of course this would be the moment that he finally lost Peter’s friendship. “Oh _God_ , Peter, I’m sorry.”

He’d thought he would have had more time to pretend, to pretend that he only liked Peter as a friend and nothing more, but now Peter knew, he _knew_ , the true extent of Harley’s feelings for him and that was decidedly not good. At all. Not even a little bit.

(Okay, maybe it was a _little_ good, because now Harley didn’t have to pretend anymore. At least now, if Peter actually stuck around, Harley wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend like he didn’t want to kiss Peter, or hug him, or cuddle with him, or watch the sunrise with him, or do any other romantic thing with him. He still wouldn’t be able to do those things regardless of whether or not Peter was okay with staying friends, but Harley would have the option of not lying to himself, and that was what mattered, didn’t it?)

Peter cupped Harley’s face in his hands, leaning over so all Harley could see were his beautiful brown eyes and that just made everything worse because Harley would most likely never be able to see those eyes this close ever again.

“Harley, it’s okay, but I need you to calm down.”

“I’m _so_ sorry,” Harley continued, not hearing a word of what Peter said. “I didn’t mean to, I just, I’m so fucking _sor_ –

And Harley was cut off because Peter’s lips were suddenly on his again— _again_ —and all thought processes stopped. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was kissing back—kissing _Peter_ —but then it didn’t matter because Peter was pulling away and resting his forehead against Harley’s and saying softly, so softly, like he didn’t want to scare Harley off, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s okay.”

And, yeah. It was.

* * *

“What do you mean you’ve liked me for the longest time?” Harley asked, practically yelling from where he sat next to Peter on the couch, because _nothing made sense anymore_.

After the couch fiasco, which was only half an hour ago, Peter had moved off of Harley and suggested they talk about a few things. You know, like adults. Which they technically were.

(Ha, take that Tony, Harley knew how to talk about his feelings with actual other people.)

Harley guessed that it was going pretty well. It _had been_ going well, actually, but now Harley was just - confused. Peter had just confessed to having a crush on Harley not long after they met—which made Harley feel a little bad, as he’d been really rude to Peter after they first met—and Harley had no idea what to do with that information.

He’d wanted Peter to like him for so long, but now that it was actually happening, he didn’t know what to do.

“I mean,” Peter said, “that I’ve liked you for the longest time. I just didn’t think you liked me.”

Harley threw his hands up. “Why _wouldn’t_ I like you?” Again, he was practically yelling because things were confusing, and it seemed like Harley could _have this_ and he never got anything he wanted and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. “You’re - _amazing_.”

Peter’s cheeks turned red and Harley was _not_ dying inside—this was supposed to be a serious conversation and he was not going to ruin that with his thoughts of how pretty Peter was when he blushed. Even though Peter was really pretty when he blushed. Like. _Really_ pretty. _Amazingly_ pretty. So pretty it should be _illegal_ , pretty. Just - pretty.

(Harley still had a problem.)

Peter shifted on the couch so he was facing Harley and put his feet on his lap. They silently stared at each other—God, Peter was _beautiful_ —for a few minutes until Peter spoke up.

“So… are we doing this?” he asked. Harley met Peter’s eyes at that and raised an eyebrow. “This being… _us_ ,” Peter clarified, the blush that had slowly faded away beginning to come back. “Like. What do you want us to be?”

“Well,” Harley started, but then he stopped because he hadn’t thought this far ahead. Sure, he’d hoped for this to happen, but he didn’t think it would _actually_ happen, you know? “I thought,” he said hesitantly, cataloging Peter’s reactions, “that I could take you out on a date.” Peter’s eyes lit up and a smile grew on Harley’s face. “Maybe on Saturday?”

Peter nodded. “I’d like that.”

Harley smiled at him, and Peter smiled back, and Harley decided that dating Peter was going to be _really_ hard—all he wanted to do was kiss him and make him laugh and smile and just make him _happy_ , and that was sure to distract from every other responsibility that Harley had.

Right as Harley opened his mouth to say something, the door to the dorm opened—they really needed to remember to lock it more frequently—and Tony strolled through.

“My two children!” Tony called as he entered. “Pep and I were in the area and decided to stop by.”

Pepper walked in behind Tony, closing the door. Tony moved to give Peter a kiss on the top of the head, proceeding to question Peter about school and how the suit was holding up, and Pepper moved over to Harley.

“How are you doing, sweetie?” she asked, slyly shooting a meaningful glance at Peter as she pulled him in for a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, which Harley returned with enthusiasm. Pepper didn’t come by a lot, but he loved when she did.

For the answer to her question, Harley looked over at Peter. He was smiling and laughing and trying to get away from Tony, who was tickling him, and was the cutest thing Harley had ever seen. And then the thought that he was _allowed_ to think those things, that he didn’t have to pretend anymore, that he was taking Peter on a _date_ in less than a week, hit him. And, well. He had his answer.

“Good. Really, really good.”

**Author's Note:**

> was i supposed to working on an update for another fic? yes, yes I was. but I didn't and there's no going back now.
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](https://michellejones-stacy.tumblr.com/)! send me prompts or requests, or we could just be friends <33
> 
> have a nice day <33


End file.
